by Folsom, Tina
Olivia pushed back a tear. This was not what she wanted to hear.
“Please, can’t you do anything?”
“If what you say about the legend is true, then there’s only one way to open the clasp.”
“No!”
“You’ve got yourself into a right tizzy. Wish I could help.” His facial expression told her that he meant it and how much it pained him that he wasn’t able to do it.
“I’ll have to think,” she said.
He rose and took his tools. “You know where to reach me. Bye.”
“Bye, Ray, and thanks for trying.” She felt resigned.
She needed some rest, and she needed to think. There had to be another way. Each minute the armband was on her arm, she felt her longing for Marcus increase. It wasn’t a feeling she liked. It made her feel vulnerable.
She was an independent woman. She didn’t need a man.
All night long, she was possessed of erotic dreams featuring Marcus and herself as the main characters. She woke exhausted and none the wiser. If anything, it was getting worse.
Over breakfast, she absentmindedly scribbled on her notepad, and when she looked at it, realized she’d written Olivia Moncrieff. His last name.
What the hell? What was she? Thirteen? This had to stop!
***
Marcus felt like banging his head against the wall. His search had come up with nothing. Thomas was still out working his way through the last batch of alumni records and photos at Birkbeck College. Marcus already worked on a list of universities and colleges in the rest of England as well as Scotland.
He’d barely slept the night before. How could he? Olivia’s scent was still in his sheets, and every time it drifted into his nose, he had another hard-on. It was pure torture, so much so that he’d spent the rest of the night on the sofa in the living room.
He contemplated involving the police, who had better resources than he did. They could find her for him, but then how would he get her off the hook? He didn’t want her in prison, and what if there were other thefts she could be connected to? Even if he then withdrew his accusations, she’d still be arrested. No, it was too risky. He had to find Olivia by himself.
He hadn’t shaved and was wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt when the phone rang.
“Moncrieff.”
“It’s Thomas. I’ve got her name.”
Relief flooded through him.
“Thank God.”
“Her name’s Olivia Hall. She graduated with a BA in art history six years ago. Looked just as cute then as she looks now,” Thomas commented.
“Thanks, Thomas.”
Olivia. She’d told him her real name.
“So you don’t want her address then?” He knew Thomas was grinning even though he couldn’t see his face.
“You have her address?”
“Got a pen?”
A few seconds later Marcus had written down her address and disconnected the call. She lived in Central London. It would take him less than twenty minutes to get to her place.
He needed to shave, then change clothes, then—
The door bell interrupted his hasty plans. He was in the right mood to ignore it, not wanting to lose a minute. But an impatient second ring made him stalk toward the door anyway.
He yanked it open and froze.
Bloody hell!
“You have to take this darn armband off me,” Olivia demanded, her voice annoyed as she brushed past him into the house.
“Nice to see you too,” he responded as he let the entrance door fall shut and followed her into the open plan living room. He meant to be sarcastic, but he’d actually told her the truth. It was nice to see her.
His cock awakened at the sight of her luscious curves.
“Take it off now!” Her face was flushed, her entire body tense when she turned to him. Her eyes were pleading, her lips just as red as when she’d been in his bed.
“Is that why you came back?”
His tried to sound calm, not wanting to betray the storm raging in him. In a few minutes, he’d sling her over his shoulder and carry her upstairs to throw her back in his bed. Then he’d punish her for running out on him.
“You shouldn’t have messed with the legend, idiot! You should have never put it on me,” Olivia spat.
“Superstitious rubbish. I can’t believe you give any credence to that stupid legend.”
“Oh yes?” she challenged him. “Then why can’t I get it off?”
He shrugged. “You need two hands to open the clasp.”
Impatiently she cut him off. “I had somebody else try to take it off. And it wouldn’t open. And you know why? Because the legend says only the man who put it on can take it off.”
“Ridiculous.”
“Really? Do you think it’s also ridiculous that I can’t stop thinking about you? That I came back, because I couldn’t stay away from you? Do you think that’s normal? All I can think about is being back in your bed.”
Marcus liked the sound of that. She wanted him. Yes! She’d come back for him, even though she’d stolen the armband.
He made two steps toward her. “That can definitely be arranged.”
“Stop!” She held her hand out in front of her to prevent him from coming any closer. “Don’t touch me. Don’t you get it? The only reason I feel like this is because of the magic the armband brings with it.”
“That’s impossible, and you know it. Why can’t you just accept that you find me attractive? Nothing wrong with that.”
He remembered the way she’d looked at him that night when he’d stood naked in front of her. Without a doubt, she’d liked what she’d seen.
“Everything’s wrong with that. I don’t just fall head over heels for a man. This is unnatural. It’s the armband that’s doing it. You have to take it off.”
Head over heels? He definitely liked the sound of that.
“Why should I? I’ve been looking for you.”
“You’ve been looking for me? Don’t you mean the police have been looking for me?”
He shook his head and earned an incredulous look from Olivia for it.
“You haven’t called the police on me? Why not? I stole the armband.”
“I couldn’t. I promised. And besides, I don’t want you to go to prison. I want you to come back to my bed.” Employing a husky tone in his voice, Marcus tried to coax her into giving in, into admitting that she wanted him too.
Olivia put her hands at her hips. “See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. You’re reacting completely unreasonably for the situation. It’s the armband that’s screwed with your mind. We have to reverse it.”
She stretched out her arm and pushed up the sleeve of her sweater exposing the armband on her bicep. “Take it off!” After a second she said, “Please.”
10
Suddenly, Marcus stood too close to her, his imposing figure only inches from touching her. Olivia could smell his male scent, no cologne. Just as intoxicating as the way he had smelled the night she’d slept with him.
Her nipples pebbled, and she cursed her traitorous body yet again.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” he whispered close to her ear.
“It’s because of the armband. It’ll go away when you take it off me. Please.” She’d lowered her voice, pleading. She had to convince him. Nothing good could come of this forced attraction to each other.
“I don’t want it to go away,” he confessed, and she felt his breath on her neck.
Olivia shook her head. “This is not real, believe me.”
“This is real.”
His hand touched her cheek, his gentle fingers stroking her. A shiver ran down her spine while a flame ignited in her belly.
Effortlessly, he turned her face up to him. In slow motion, his lips descended on hers. Seconds later, she lost all coherent thought and responded to his kiss. Her lips parted and invited him in. His arms pulled her closer into him, and she didn’t have the strength to
push him away.
Or the desire to.
Marcus pressed his hips against her, making her aware of his erection. She gasped, and he released her lips.
“Can’t you feel what you do me?”
“We have to stop,” she begged without conviction.
“Can’t. I want you, now.”
“I’m a thief.”
“I don’t care.”
He swept her into his arms and walked toward the stairs.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m taking you to bed.”
She struggled in his arms. “Take the armband off.”
He looked at her determined face.
“I mean it. Take it off. Now. If you still want me afterwards, I’ll come to bed with you. But take it off first.”
Olivia counted on the magic of the armband to dissipate instantly, saving her from landing in bed with him again. Not that she didn’t want to be with him again, but she knew if she allowed herself to feel him inside her once more, he’d break her heart when he finally came to his senses and realized how impossible any relationship between them was.
He gave her a long look, then put her back down on her feet.
“Fair enough.”
With both hands he touched the clasp and gave it a little squeeze. It sprung open instantly.
“There. It’s off.” He slid it off her arm and placed it in her hands. “Now let’s go to bed.”
“You mean you don’t feel any different?” she asked curiously.
“No. Do you?”
Olivia shook her head. Her hunger for him was still as insatiable as before. “Maybe it takes a while for the effect to wear off.”
“We’d better not waste any time then . . . ” He gave her a wicked look and attempted to lift her back into his arms.
She quickly backed away from him.
“We should wait until it wears off.”
She tried to push past him, but he blocked her exit. The only way past him was up, up the stairs to his bedroom. She wasn’t going to go that way. No. She was sure in a few minutes they’d both feel normal again, and then this whole desire for each other would be gone.
“I’m still as hard for you as I was a minute ago. I’m telling you, the legend is rubbish. You and me, that’s real.”
Marcus closed in on her and pulled her back into his arms. “Don’t fight it. You want this as much as I do.”
Olivia knew he was right. She did want him, but she was sure it was the effect of the legend. It was impossible to feel what she felt for Marcus. She didn’t know him, had only met him a few days ago and had basically nothing in common with him.
Yet, when he looked at her, when she felt his touch on her skin, his lips on hers, she knew everything was perfect. He was perfect. Perfect for her. The emptiness she’d felt at her flat was gone.
But what she felt now would fade soon. The magic of the armband would wear off, eventually. Maybe just one more time she could feel him inside her. One more time. After that, his desire would have worn off too.
“Just one more time. After, we’ll part ways. You’ll let me go.” She was crazy offering it, yet she looked at him asking for his promise.
“I’m not sure I can do that,” he hedged.
“Please, you have to promise me.”
Seconds ticked away as he considered her plea. “Okay. But you’ll give me twenty-four hours with you, and if you still want to leave after that, you can. But I won’t promise that I won’t try to convince you to come back to me even after that.”
Marcus offered his hand to lead her upstairs, and she took it. When they were halfway up the stairs, the door bell rang. She stopped.
“Ignore it,” he said and kept walking.
“What if it’s important?”
The burning desire in his eyes spoke volumes. “You are important.”
The door bell rang again. This time it was accompanied by several loud knocks and an insistent male voice. “Mr. Moncrieff? Simon Hammerlein from Christie’s. Mr. Moncrieff?”
A surprised look washed over Marcus’s face. “I’d better see what he wants.”
When Marcus opened the door, Olivia recognized the man who stood outside. She’d seen him at the auction house and knew he was one of the administrators. Next to him stood a man she’d never met.
“I’m so sorry to disturb you, Mr. Moncrieff. But there has been a problem. Hmm . . . ” He appeared overly nervous.
“This is Inspector Chadwick from Scotland Yard.”
The inspector showed his identification.
Olivia’s heart stopped. Had he called the police on her nevertheless? Disappointment swept over her. So his word wasn’t worth anything after all.
“Maybe we could have a word in private?”
“Concerning?” Marcus’s voice suddenly sounded tight.
“The artifact you purchased at the auction. There has been a theft.”
Marcus shot a glance over his shoulder to where Olivia stood at the bottom of the stairs, the armband in her hand, willing her to remain calm.
“There’s been no theft. As you can see, my girlfriend is holding it.”
The two men looked past him and nodded as they saw her with the artifact in the palm of her hand. She tried to steady her shaking hands, hoping they couldn’t see her fear.
“Unfortunately, the theft occurred before the auction,” the inspector explained pointedly. “This one is a forgery.”
Marcus motioned the two men to come in. They entered the foyer.
“A forgery?” Olivia echoed and stepped toward them.
Marcus put his arm around her waist. His touch was reassuring, as was the knowledge that he was as surprised about the police showing up at his door as she was.
“Would you care to elaborate?” Marcus asked the inspector.
“We’ve apprehended an employee of the auction house,” Inspector Chadwick explained as Mr. Hammerlein cringed. “The employee was trying to smuggle the item out of the country, no doubt to sell it to a foreign collector.”
“What makes you so sure that his is the real one, and this is the forgery?”
Marcus’s hand around Olivia’s waist held her closer to him as if he felt her unease around the policeman. His thumb stroked her tenderly.
“He confessed, and we found the workshop where he made the replica. We’ll of course have to test both items to make sure. Therefore, we’ll have to confiscate the artifact for now.”
“Baby, why don’t you give the armband to the inspector?”
She was unable to move. Marcus took the armband from her hands and passed it to the inspector.
“Very sorry, Madam, Sir,” Mr. Hammerlein apologized. “The auction house will of course make sure you receive the real armband once the investigation is closed. And your money will be put in an interest bearing account for your benefit. May I say, we at Christie’s are shocked and—”
Marcus waved him off. “I’m sure you’ll sort it out.”
Then he looked at Olivia, and a big smile spread over his face. He seemed completely unfazed about the revelation that he’d purchased a forgery.
“Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse us. My girlfriend and I have plans . . . ”
The way he said girlfriend and plans in one sentence coupled with the way his eyes devoured her told her exactly what he wanted.
“Of course,” Hammerlein stammered.
After an exchange of business cards and a receipt for the fake armband, they were alone.
Gone was the armband, replaced by the knowledge that there was no legend or magic attached to the forgery.
It was worse than she’d thought. If there was no magic, no legend, then what had compelled her to come back to Marcus, the man she’d robbed? Whatever it was, she had no intention of finding out.
“I’ve got to leave,” Olivia burst out and made for the door, pushing past him.
He gripped her arm and pulled her back. “You’re not going anywhere, love.”
Her lip
s trembled. Shit! “But—”
“Let’s talk.”
“We’ve got nothing to talk about.”
Marcus nudged her until her back met the wall. With his arms braced on either side of her body, he towered over her.
“Oh, we’ve got plenty to talk about. Because from where I stand you still owe me. You broke our deal last night.”
“I did nothing of the sort. We had sex in exchange for you letting me escape the police.”
He shook his head. “That was for your first offense: breaking and entering. But then you left with the artifact. That’s a second offense.”
Her breath hitched.
Slowly a smile formed around his lips. “That’s right. Now you’ve got to pay for stealing the armband.”
“But it was a fake!” she protested. “That guy from Christie’s said so just a minute ago.”
“Yes, but you didn’t know that last night. In any case, it’s still theft.”
Marcus moved closer, pressing his body against hers. His eyes were dark, his lips parted. When his breath fanned over her face, she inhaled, taking in his intoxicating scent. It reminded her of the night she’d spent in his arms. Against her better judgment, she moved her head closer to his, inviting him.
“What do you want this time?” she husked, knowing at the same time that it was stupid to give into him. Yet, she couldn’t resist the erotic pull he exercised.
“Now we’re talking.” His lips brushed lightly over hers, then trailed along her jaw down to her neck.
Her body began to tingle under his touch, her nipples beading involuntarily.
“I enjoyed the way you sucked me last night. I think we’ll start with that . . .”
“Start?” she murmured, her mouth already watering at the thought of licking him again.
“Yes,” he answered and stroked his hand over her torso, cupping her breast. “Since you’ll be in my bed for an entire week this time, I figured we’ll take it slow.”
An entire week? Was he trying to kill her? She’d never survive a week in his bed. He would turn her into a sex addict. “You can’t be serious.”
He pressed his growing erection into her stomach. “Oh, I’m dead serious. Stealing is a serious offense. You didn’t think I would just let you get away with it, did you?” He tsked.
